Rise Of The Riddle Heiress
by Azkedelia
Summary: Hermione isn't who she thought she was, and to be honest she's rather relieved! But will her 'friends' accept that she isn't their Mione? Will she switch sides when she learns of her heritage? And will the Riddle Heiress ever be allowed a love life? Dark!Hermione, Dumbledore/Harry/Weasley!Bashing, VERY OC! (Re-write of Mistress of Malfoy Manor, it sucked, hopefully now it doesnt)
1. Prologue

Prologue

The atmosphere was laced with anticipation, the two groups faced against each other in the enclosed space. The Order and Aurors faced the Death Eaters, both sides with their eyes and wands locked in the almost silent standoff. The only sound; the mad cackles of Bellatrix Lestrange, that seemed to echo across the grounds of the manor. The two recognisable figures at the front of the Auror camp spoke, but dared not to move closer.

"Hermione, it's us!"

"Come on, put your wand down and come home. Please, we miss you."

"That's NOT my name!" She glared at the two insufferable pricks, trying to persuade her.

Their words ought to have had some effect on her, but they didn't. Her home was not with them, not anymore, they lost that chance a long time ago. Her true home was right here, standing with her true family, fighting for the cause she whole heartedly believed in. If only they could see...

"Hermione, don't do this." Harry urged, he and Ron still with their wands trained uncomfortably on their friend, who in turn had her wand pointed straight back at them.

"Voldemort is evil, he's going to destroy everything, he wants to take over and he wants you to help him!" Ron chipped in, in desperation.

And she'd make him proud. A screech of outrage could be heard from the deranged witch to Pandora's right. Bellatrix stomped her foot in outrage at the audacity of the ginger boy.

"You dare speak his name, you disgusting little blood traitor, you haven't the right!"  
Pandora yelled whilst she aimed her wand directly at Ron's heart, and she saw him visibly gulp.

Shifting her footing, her face no longer frowned with conflict but loosened into a confident smirk. She would prove them wrong.

Accepting their old friend's mind wasn't going to change, Harry and Ron exchanged a single solemn glance, and moved to strike.

Pandora moved faster...

A/N - No change required for this bit, so it has stayed the same


	2. The Summer Of Death

**The Summer Of Death**

Hermione stared out the window blankly, as the rolling hills of the Yorkshire countryside whisked past. She was going home. She hadn't slept all night, a hideous feeling in her stomach that something was wrong. She curled herself up into a ball on the velvet seat, and reached for her well read copy of 'Wuthering Heights'*. She had to stop her mind from straying into the unknown horror that had been her previous night at Hogwarts.

 **xXxXxXx**

Instead of keeping the rest of her dorm up, she had tiptoed out and down the spiral staircase to the Common room. Glancing at the clock hovering above the mantelpiece, she decided to tuck herself into her favourite armchair and catch up on some light reading. It was 1 in the morning, she'd have to be up in 6 hours, and she had no interest in just staring blankly out the window, at the mist like rain that shimmered down from the heavens. The howling breeze whipped the rain into a frenzy, it looked almost like a full scale blizzard. As she glanced at the dim embers in the fire, she wished she could lie upon them to warm her frozen body. Although the Gryffindor Common room was typically a warm and inviting environment, that particular night, as the wind howled against the old stone walls, there might as well have been a bunch of dementors holding a funeral in it. She grabbed a blanket from the chair alongside the one she occupied, snuggled herself down and opened her book.

"Miss Granger dear? ... Miss Granger? ... Oh for heavens sakes, HERMIONE!"

Hermione bolted out her cosy armchair so fast she nearly head-butt Professor McGonagall. She glanced around quickly trying to work out where the danger was coming from, for there had to be one for the professor to wake her up in such a manner. Come to think of it, when had she fallen asleep?

"In any other circumstance I would ask why you decided to sleep in the Common room and not in your own perfectly comfortable bed, but, alas there are far more important things to be done. Can you go and wake up the rest of the girls in their dormitories please and ask them to all come down to the great hall. They needn't get changed, just tell them to throw a cloak or nightgown or something on over their pyjamas." McGonagall started to head towards the boys dorms in a brisk business-like fashion, which left Hermione feeling completely perplexed.

"I don't understand professor, what's going on?" she quickly glanced at the clock and couldn't believe that it was only 4am, surely the clock must have stopped? But then again, it was magic not muggle and didn't need batteries. Glancing back up at the professor's tired face, she decided not to press her lack of understanding, and just do as she was told. She had never been one to question a direct instruction from her professors, and she could tell that now wasn't the time to break that trend.

She dashed up the spiral staircase two at a time, banging on doors as she reached each mini landing. On the few occasions that the occupants of a dorm weren't immediately startled awake by her noisy knocking, she decided to swing open the door with such force that it bounced of the wall and slammed closed again. That certainly woke up those in a deep sleep. She didn't see the point in having to repeat herself over and over, so she touched her wand to her throat, muttered an incantation and then her booming voice could be heard all the way through the Gryffindor Tower.

"Professor McGonagall has given me direct instructions to wake you ladies up! Do not go back to sleep, you are to put on your dressing gowns or cloaks and make your way down the Great Hall immediately. Any stragglers will receive my boot up their backside!" Hermione felt a twisted thread of glee at the tiny handful of power McGonagall had given her. She had never considered herself hungry for power or control, and yet it felt incredibly good to her. She pushed the errant feelings away, feeling slightly unnerved, and made her way back down to her own dorm to grab her black and gold Kimono.

It was her prize possession, aside from her wand and books. Her mother had given it to her for Christmas the previous year. It was made from gorgeously soft black satin, with a gold silk sash and golden embroidery in an oriental pattern. She felt like a geisha when she wore it. It was mid-thigh length and went perfectly with the plain black silk pyjamas her father had given her the same Christmas. That Christmas had been one of the best in her life, but also one of the saddest. There had been a fire at her parents Dental Practice, which meant money was short that year. The only reason any of the luxuries could be afforded, was because of the small windfall that came their way through the death of Hermione's aunt Lydia. Hermione hadn't know her that well, they'd only met twice as far as she was aware, as Lydia had lived in South Africa working as a keeper in Johannesburg Zoo. But she was still her mother's sister, so it had been a tough Christmas knowing she wasn't wandering round somewhere, several thousand miles away, with a baby Red Bellied Lemur attached to her arm. Hermione cherished these precious items even more so because they connected her to her mysterious aunt who had been accidently crushed in the Pygmy Hippo enclosure during a routine check up by the vets. The sheer luxuriousness of the Kimono made it her favourite.

With her Kimono on and her feet pushed into her snug boot-like slippers, she made her way down to the Great Hall to find out what all the drama was about. As she marched past painting after painting on her trek down the ever changing staircase, she began to notice that they all looked odd, like something wasn't quite right. The problem was far less obvious in the scenic paintings, but it was in the portraits that the problem became all too clear. There were no people! How peculiar she thought to herself, pondering over it until before she knew it she was at the bottom of the stairs. She strode over to the open doors and stopped at the peculiar sight before her eyes. Almost every single teacher was sitting in his or her respective chair at the head table, in their pyjamas. All in fact except Professor Snape, who appeared to be fully dressed, including his boots and cloak. If that hadn't been enough to have her trying to stifle a few giggles, seeing the rest of the student body in their pyjamas and cloaks or dressing gown, certainly did it.

There was only one other person, aside from Snape, who happened to be in clothing: Harry. This made him stand out particularly badly, which was made worse by the fact that he was currently sat in Professor McGonagall's chair at the head table and not at the Gryffindor table. The fact that Harry wasn't sitting with Ron, quickly sobered her up. She threw Ron a quizzical look, as she wandered over to where he was sat between Ginny and Luna Lovegood. He hadn't noticed her arrival until she was stood right next time him, and only then noticed the look she was giving him. He just shrugged and budged up closer to Ginny to make space for her next to him. It was only as she sat down, that she noticed the dirty glares being thrown in her direction from almost every single female member of the Slytherin table. Pansy Parkinson however was too busy deep in conversation with Blaise Zabini to even look in her direction. This only confused Hermione more, what on earth could she have done to incur the wrath of every single female of the Slytherin house bar one?!

As the last few stragglers wandered over to their tables, looking particularly like zombies, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly, causing an oppressive silence to fall over the entire room. As Hermione looked up at her she noticed that behind the professor sat one single empty chair in the middle of the head table. Where was the headmaster?

"I'm sure you're all wondering why I've summoned you down here at this most unpleasant hour. However making this announcement here as opposed to having to address each house in turn seemed a far more sensible manner of doing things. You are to return to your dormitories and get changed, immediately start packing all of your belongings into your trunks, your owls will be waiting for you there. Once everything is packed and you are dressed you are to return back down here. I would ask that no student walk alone, you are to stay in groups of at least three. Hogwarts is no longer safe."

At this last comment the Hall erupted into squeaks and squeals of shock, followed by an incredibly loud bombardment of questions aimed at McGonagall.

"WOULD YOU BE QUIET!" Her loud voice boomed around the hall, startling everyone back into silence. "I take no pleasure in informing you that you are all to be returning home first thing in the morning, once the train arrives back here. Your heads of house will lead you down to the carriages and ensure everyone gets onto the train. It is with great sadness and a heavy heart that I have to inform you; Professor Dumbledore has passed away..."

The silence that had fallen over the room increased even further as every student found they could no longer breath, shock set in so swiftly, that several first years fainted and had to be revived by their fellow housemates.

"As I am sure many of you have come to the conclusion already, you must all know that although this wasn't at the direct hands of He-who-must-not-be-named, it was several of his followers that breached the castle and killed him. Therefore Hogwarts is no longer safe and you are all to return home to your families. They have already been informed. You have two hours to be dressed, packed and back here. House elves have been sent to your dormitories to assist you. We don't know when, but you will all be notified when the funeral for Albus will be, you will all naturally be asked to attend. I know I speak for all of us when I say he will be sorely missed and forever cherished in our hearts" A single tear slowly trickled down her cheek, as each and every student reached for their wands, lifted them high above their heads, and in an eerie unison muttered 'Lumos'. Behind McGonagall, each and every professor followed suit. As McGonagall turned round she gasped to see her fellow teachers united with the pupils, and another tear rolled down her cheek. She reached deep into the pocket of her night gown and withdrew her own wand, raising it high above her head, the tip glowed with a peculiar purple light, and in the dead silence her voice could be heard by every single student.

"Goodbye Albus.."

They stayed that way for 2 minutes, each thinking about their own memories of Dumbledore. It shook Hermione to the core to see everyone so emotional. Even the Slytherins looked forlorn and sad. McGonagall lowered her wand and everyone followed suit.

"Go on now, go pack, you only have two hours to be back down here!" There was an emptiness in her words that matched the hollow and distant look in her eyes.

Hogwarts hadn't just lost their headmaster that night, she had lost her best friend. With that, she turned to her fellow professors, nodded once, then strode to her private chambers to pack her belonging too. She would leave with her students.

As Hermione wandered back up the stairs to the Common room, joined by Ron and Ginny, she found her mind was blank, her eyes unable to focus, and her heart heavy. The depth of her despair left her a hollow shell of her former self. Surely this was the darkest day of her life, both past present and future... Little did she know that there was worse yet to come.

xXxXxXx

Hermione woke up with a start, as Ron shook her shoulder gently. She looked up at him with empty eyes, and he sighed. He perched himself down on the seat next to her and dragged her into his arms. She sobbed and sobbed until her eyes ran dry and she felt even more cold than she had that night in the Common room.

"We're almost there 'Mione, look." As her eyes glanced up to where Ron was pointing out the window, she realised that the Countryside of Yorkshire had since changed into the outskirts of London. Hermione sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes hard, anything to bring her back down to earth from this nightmare she was sure she would wake up from, if she only knew how. Realising it was futile and that this really was happening, she stood up quickly and stretched her sore and cramping legs.

"Where's Harry? I never saw him get on the train?" Ron looked up at Hermione's worried expression and just shrugged.

"I don't know, he's probably with the Professors, he never came to bed last night. I think he was there... you know... when Dumbledore died. He's probably being bombarded with questions of what actually happened." Ron paused, deep in thought, then followed up with "Do you want to go look for him? I'm sure he's fine, but if it will help put your mind at ease". He looked up at her with a hopeful look in his eyes. It was evident from his expression that he too was worried and that he was desperate to go and find his best friend too. But his loyalty to Hermione had kept him here, watching over her as she had slept. When had she fallen asleep? And why did this keep happening, she had no recollection of Ron even being in the carriage when she started reading. And where on earth was her book? She glanced down to find it wedged between the seat cushions, and she snatched it up, straightening out the crumpled pages.

"Yes, let's go see if we can find him, I'm sure he'll be fine, but even so maybe he could do with some company of his own age."

She grabbed Ron's arm and practically frog marched him down to the front of the train, where she knew the professors had decided to sit. It was odd to have the teachers on the train, usually they would apparate just outside of the school grounds and walk through the open gates that were awaiting the students return. But given the seriousness of the previous night they had decided to travel with their students, just in case anymore dangers appeared.

By the time they reached the professors and Harry, he was already asleep, so Hermione and Ron chose to sit either side of his curled up body, and simply wait for him to sleep away his exhaustion. Little did they know that Harry wouldn't return to the land of the living until the train pulled into the station, and by that point all three of them would be snoozing gently.

xXxXxXx

A/N Not massive changes in this chapter either, just a few lines here and there.

Reviews are my bread and butter! A bottle of Amortentia to anyone who reviews ;)


	3. Coming To Terms

**Coming To Terms**

The journey back to the Granger's home was a tedious drive. Hermione wished she could just sleep the journey away and avoid her parents unusually probing questions, but given she had slept almost all of the journey to Kings Cross Station, her eyes couldn't even close to pretend. She avoided as many questions as possible, pretending she was reading her book, oblivious to the world around her. But her parents knew different, the pink tinge to her cheeks made it obvious she heard every single question. In the rear view mirror Andrew Granger saw the silent tears trickle down his daughter's face and sighed in resignation. He glanced over at his wife and pressed a finger to his lips. Miranda Granger turned carefully to glance back at her daughter, she too spied the tears and decided to distract herself with her phone.

The rest of the journey was spent in silence, much to Hermione's relief. Her seatbelt was undone before her father had even switched the engine off. She raced to the back of the car and levitated her trunk out of the boot, internally thanking her father for having the common sense to park in the garage. She whistled for Crookshanks; her perminantlely dishevelled looking cat, as she went upstairs. Floating her incredibly heavy trunk up to her room, she quietly shut the door behind her. Feigning unpacking, she collapsed onto her bed, suddenly feeling exhausted, even though she'd spent most of the day asleep. In less than 24 hours she felt like her world had fallen apart. Even though Albus Dumbledore was only the Hogwarts Headmaster, he was still one of the only people who truly encouraged her to expand her knowledge as best as she could. To read her way into infamousy as the brightest witch of her age. Although it was something she would never own up to, she felt a certain amount of pleasure at being regarded someone so intelligent, that noone else in her generation could compare.

Deciding that she really needed to take her mind away from the disaster that had been yesterday, she chose to actually unpack her belongings from her trunk. She decided to unpack everything the muggle way. It was incredibly tedious and took her the best part of an hour and a half, but it was mundane enough to distract her from her own thoughts. Just as she was shoving her now empty trunk into the bottom of her linen closet, she heard her mother calling her name at the bottom of the stairs. Peeking her head out from around her bedroom door, she called back.

"Yes mother?"

"We're just putting dinner onto the table, if you want some, then you need to come down now."

"I'll be down in two seconds! I just want to wash my face first." She called back down the stairs. Nipping into the bathroom at the end of the hall she splashed warm then cold water onto her face, awakening her senses a bit more. After gently patting her face and hands dry with her indigo fluffy towels, she wandered off downstairs to the smell of heaven.

The beautiful aroma of mousakka and garlic bread intensified when she got to the dining room. Her parents were already seated waiting patiently for her to join them, she quickly sat down and smiled at them to start eating. Glancing around the room as she served herself a large helping of mousakka, she smiled at the photos of her childhood upon the walls. Her favourite photo was of her on her 5th birthday, sat on the porch steps that led out into the back garden. It was one of the only photos that actually showed just how large the Granger home was.

Her parents were the most sought after dentists in the whole of the south of England and were world renound for the smiles they gave people. The had quite a large number of celebrity clientele, which meant money wasn't something they were short of. This was remarkably obvious in their beautiful home. It was a three storey victorian house; not including the wine cellar and the attic, with four well sized bedrooms and the master suite. Hermione had the whole third floor all to herself, with her own private bathroom, linen closet, study, guest bedroom and then her own bedroom, which included a walk in wardrobe and ensuite.

However, other than when her cousin used to come and stay, it was usually a remarkably lonely house, her parents were cold and beligerent. More interested in their work lives and each other, than they were in her. They had high expectations of her; she had to get the best grades, failure wasn't option. She had to be perfect to make them proud, which typically meant she had no friends. She wasn't overly popular in primary school, having to be the top of the class and smarter than the other kids earned her a variety of nicknames, and a dramatic lack of friends. She'd had three best friends; Lucinda, Rowan and Meredith, so girly sleepovers were a frequent thing before she got her letter from Hogwarts. But due to her new education away from muggle Secondary schools, she lost contact with all bar Meredith. Even then, due to Meredith being a Muggle, Hermione wasn't as close with her as she used to be. This led to quite a lot of loneliness, as all her Hogwarts friend were usually far to busy being with their own familes, to visit during holidays. The exception to this being Ginny Weasley.

Ginny frequently visited the Granger home, at least once a fortnight during the holidays, and even more frequently if she was arguing with the rest of the Weasley siblings. There was a fantastic photo of her and Ginny stood outside of Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley with their arms linked and Pigwidgeon, the latest Weasley owl, perched on Ginny's head. The two of them were smiling at something Harry had said just out of shot.

There were also a varity of photos of family members on the wall, most of them she knew but a few she didn't. The photo she cherished the most was of her aunt Lydia holding her as a baby. There was a sudden pang of sadness in Hermione's heart as her eyes fell upon the photo, and she found herself blinking back tears. Although she hadn't known Lydia all that well, there was an excitment from her that Hermione rarely found in her parents. Although her magic was a secret kept from her extended family, she always found Lydia watching her closely during her rare visits to England. Almost as if she was expecting Hermione to start floating the fine china around the living room. And on the one occassion where as a young child Hermione had been told off, and accidently blew up the washing machine in a fit of rage, Lydia had looked like Christmas had come early. Only to have the excitment vanish the minute Miranda said that the washing machine had been struggling for a while and it was due to die any day now. To this day, none of her family that didn't know of her magic, could understand how on earth the machine had actually blown up.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Hermione was startled out of her memories by her father's rare moment of compassion. Seeing the concerned look on his face, she just nodded and bit back the tears that were threatening to escape. Swallowing a large spoonful of the mousakka, Hermione slumped back into her chair, even eating her favourite food did little to lift her spirits.

"Are you sure? You don't appear to be very happy, and you never cry, yet you are now.." Miranda's lack of tact was like a slap in the face. Although Hermione was used to how cold her parents were, almost like emotionless automatons, it still hurt. She couldn't fail to notice the slight look of revulsion in her mother's eyes.

"I'm fine, I just feel emotional. But I'll be fine, don't panic." Hemione's sarcastic response to parents didn't seem to work at getting them to back off, as she noticed the concerned glance the gave each other. "I'm just dreading the funeral.."

The look of alarm in both her parents eyes, and the clatter of her mothers cutlery falling from her hands to her plate suprised Hermione. Both her parents were usually the epitome of calm and collected, unaffected by the world around them.

"Hermione, what funeral, we didn't know anyone had died? Is that why you've been sent home?" The words tumbled from her mothers mouth like a waterfall, Hermione didn't know which to answer first, she was too busy trying to work out how her parents didn't already know.

"Didn't Professor Mcgonagall tell you?" The blank expression on both her parents faces answered for them. "Professor Dumbledore, you know, the headmaster... Well he was.. sort of.. well, murdered. But we don't now by who, we weren't told. That's why we got sent home. Even the professors were on the train home, and they never come with us, they usually apparate. I think they're worried it was an inside job, after all Hogwarts is supposed to be impenetrable." Once she'd got past saying the word murdered, the rest of Hermione's words came tumbling out of her mouth at such a speed her parents could barely keep up.

"Okay, well what does that mean for you studies, and your exams? Will the school be open next year?" Her mother queried. Hermione could have kicked herself for not realising sooner, that the only reason they were concerned was because they were worried she wouldn't still be top of the class.

 _'No, no, don't mind me, the headmaster has just been bloody murdered, but you two just keep worrying about my damn grades.'_ She ranted to herself internally.

"I don't really know to be honest, I finished my O.W.L.s last year, and my N.E.W.T.s aren't until next year, so these next couple of weeks only come out of my studies, and learning rather than exam time. But I don't know anymore than the obvious, so until I get another letter, or unless an announcement is made at Dumbledore's funeral, then I don't have a clue." Hermione said bitterly.

Her parents didn't bother to push for information when it was clear their daughter didn't have it, so they just continued on with their meal in silent contemplation. After dinner was finished and the crockery and cutlery washed and put away, Hermione wandered back up to her bedroom to continue studying. She'd be damned if she fell behind where she should be under normal circumstances. It was also a good method of distraction.

A week later Hermione was woken up by an annoying tapping noise. As her eyes fluttered open, she glanced at her alarm clock to see that it was 9:52am. Sitting bolt up right she glanced around the room trying to distinguish where the tapping was coming from. Confused as to how she'd slept so late and why her parents hadn't woken her up. Peering out the window, she noticed a small owl tapping on the window. She clambered out of bed and let the owl in, removing the letter from its leg she gave it an owl treat that she'd kept aside for Pigwidgeon, it munched it quickly and then flew out the open window. Turning the letter over she noticed the Hogwarts seal on the back. She ran into her study and sliced it open with a letter opener, and began to read.

Dear Miss Granger,

This letter is to inform you of the date and time of the funeral of Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

It will be held on the grounds of Hogwarts, on the 21st of July at 11am.

Further information regarding the return of students next September will be announced after the funeral in the Grand Hall.

I hope you're well and that you're able to attend.

There is no need to dress in black, Albus would have preferred everyone in vibrant colours, but do bring your black school cloak and wand.

Kind Regards,

Minerva Mcgonagall

Headmistress of Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Hermione had to sit down, although everyone had gathered around Dumbledore's body in the Hospital Wing after McGonagall had announced his death, it hadn't felt real until she'd received the letter. All she wanted to do was cry and empty out all the emotions that were building up in her heart, but all she'd done all week was cry, and there were no tears left. She climbed onto her bed, curled up under the duvet and rocked herself back to dreamless sleep.

A/N - Quite a lot of changes in this chapter, but there's a lot that changes in the future that this is contributing to.


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